


Perfectionist

by Tsume_Captor_von_Lohengrin



Series: Psychological Senses [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsume_Captor_von_Lohengrin/pseuds/Tsume_Captor_von_Lohengrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When faced with eternity, some succomb to madness while others seek comfort in short-lived things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfectionist

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually written for my english class some years ago. Of course, the copy I gave my teacher had been slightly modified so as to not contain the elements actually making this a FMA fic, but it was surprisingly very well received. Sorry, just ranting, please continue on to your reading...

I bring to my lips the fruit of years of hard labour and patience. Everything I did, all the sacrifices I made for this one moment of pure bliss. I inhale the intoxicating scent of a job well done.

Perfection. Everything is perfect.

Humans spend their lives trying to bring their world to absolute perfection. They don't realise that it's impossible to bring everything as they want them to be. But me, I spend my life bringing little details to perfection, one at a time, then I let them be as they should be, mishappen and shapeless. Each time I succeed, I feel a wave of feelings like no others crash over me.

Like a drug would do. In some way, I guess I am a junky, since I can't stop. But this time... This time, I think I have brought something to absolute perfection.

For years I have stood guard, protecting, watching, anticipating this moment. The first time I led eyes on this beauty, I knew the day had come. The day I would make my masterpiece.

Ever since I was born, I waited for this moment. It was true torture, really, to wait while knowing the moment of absolute perfection was so imminent. I could practically smell it.

But I had to wait, otherwise I would ruin this unique chance. It obsessed me and sometimes I feared I did too much. Because too much is like not enough.

Then the perfect moment came. Perfect opportunity, perfect settings. Then I found the perfect spot. I would bring this to perfection. A masterpiece. Excitement has taken a hold of me.

Right now, only this moment counts. This only moment. Only a few seconds to wait. I remember all my hard labour, the years I've spent preparing this moment, anticipating my goal. I remember it like it was yesterday.

\----------------

It all started exactly six years ago. I found an orphan on a deserted road, near a burning house. A peasant house. The child was dirty. A peasant child.

Any other noble would have lifted their nose and walked away, but not I. I only laid eyes on him and excitement rose in me. The thrill of perfection.

I took him home, gave him a bath and bought him clothes. As I looked again at him, I knew.

Innocence always made a good canvas for perfection, after all.

Golden eyes with a fire burning within. Golden hair flowing like a river under a harsh sun down on strong shoulders. Skin tanned by long hours of work outside.

He was thirteen years old, then. I tasted him for the first time the night of his fourteenth birthday. Even the best wine could be nothing more than a pale comparison. Good thing he remembered nothing in the morning and he didn't like mirrors.

Two years later came something I should have seen coming. Thieves came and beat him good. By the time I came to his rescue and killed the thugs, his right arm and left leg were so wounded that the doctor had to cut them off.

A real tragedy. I was certain at that time that my lack of vigilence had ruined everything. He became sick very quickly afterwards. So sick, in fact, that I paid a fortune to have the best doctor come and treat him.

The doctor was also a mechanic. Seeing my dear orphan so sick and sad made his heart hurt. He made metal limbs for him.

Right after, my orphan became better really quickly. And, as opposed to what I had first thought, he was even more beautiful.

When he reached nineteen, last month, the thrill of perfection assaulted me again. The time had come. The excitement came back full force and I applied myself into making everything perfect. Everything was ready for tonight.

I brought him to my bedroom, the perfect spot. His eyes shone with absolute trust and abandon, the perfect opportunity. Only candles lit the room, incence burning in a corner to heighten the senses, the perfect settings.

Now the last touch before bringing this - no. Him - to absolute perfection. My nimble fingers undress him slowly. The perfect pace. I savoured the moment, every millisecond of it.

Goose bumps formed on his exposed skin. He shivered slightly under my intense gaze. Calculating, I commited every detail to memory. The candles reflecting on his metal limbs. His golden hair sprawled on the comfy pillows. His questioning golden eyes, wide with apprehension and some fear.

Innocence makes a good canvas for perfection and holds fast until the very last second.

His trembling hands rose slowly and he took his time to reveal my pale skin to his curious eyes. I then took his innocence. Slowly, with the same determination and care for the details I showed for the past six years.

The thrill of perfection grew in me, building up. The perfect moment.

The slapping sound of skin on skin, the sound of his heated breath against my ear, the sound of his breathy moans and mewl, the sound of my name on his lips, the sound of his voice saying pleas and praises. Like a drug.

My mind was foggy. I was almost there. To the moment of absolute perfection. I sank my fangs in the tender skin of his neck and fetched my prize. The fruit of years of hard labour and patience.

I raised it to my lips as golden eyes closed in completion. And as I reached mine, I sank my fangs in his barely beating heart. Everything I did, all the sacrifices I made for this one moment of pure bliss. Of absolute perfection.

Shattered as a last whisper escaped his lips: "I love you, Roy."


End file.
